The Stray Dragonlord
by Veilwuarrah
Summary: Where Merlin is raised by Kilgharrah. (Fic.No.6 for "The Request Game" - for Princess Falling Star)
1. Come find me

**This was written as a request-fic for ****Princess Falling Star, and it is the 6th fic for "The Request Game". ****However, I liked the idea and got into it, so much so, that before I realized I had nineteen pages already written and and more coming. ^^; **

**Special thanks to TeganL74 who did a wonderful job betaing it. And thanks for the nags too :P It does me a world of good. ;)**

**Hope you enjoy and let me know what you think!**

**.*.**

**The Stray Dragonlord ~ for Princess Falling Star**

Where Merlin is raised by Kilgharrah

Slight slash; Arthur/Merlin

~.*.~

_"Merlin, humans live with humans. Not dragons."_

_"No."_

_"It would be time.."_

_"No." _he said, looking straight into those golden eyes for a second, then turned back to focus on what he was doing: balancing on two stones in the shallow creek with a pole in his hand.

_"You will need to do this."_

_"No!"_ he cut him off again, not even looking behind.

Kilgharrah sighed. He was getting too old for this.

_"It would be good for you to start living with people!"_

_"I don't wanna.."_ he murmured.

The great dragon let out a puff which sent a little cloud of steam up the air.

_"You will _"wanna"_ because there is a destiny waiting for you that you won't fulfill riding across the land with me and spending your time lazing around or fishing,"_ the magical creature snapped and got up to walk off.

The boy mumbled something of a growl but just kept his gaze focused on the water, then he thrust forward, cursing under his breath when the fish got away.

They had this conversation each day, recently; the dragon becoming more and more insistent on the matter and it irked the young warlock to no end. Kilgharrah had told him tales about destiny and Albion and the future, but Merlin figured _everything was fine, so why change it now?_

About one hour (and two fish) later, Merlin picked his head up to some distant voices and rustling in the bushes. He frantically ran his gaze along the forest line; trying to determine where they were coming from. Unfamiliar voices he somehow still knew, and he peeked behind him only to realize the dragon wasn't there anymore.

A twig snapped and he jumped, eyeing the trees. The voices were getting louder; there were people coming towards him and from the sounds of it, they were on horses. Slowly their figures broke out from the tree line at the small clearing, some distance across from where Merlin stood in the creek, and the warlock looked on with wide eyes. The men were wearing red capes and chain-mail, and for the moment they were preoccupied with getting out and around the lower branches of the trees, which densely reached towards the ground, making it hard for the riders to pass.

Merlin knew who they were in an instant, and he feared them.

After snapping out of the initial shock, he tossed the fishing pole away and darted towards where he figured the great dragon could be.

"_Kilgharrah! Kilgharrah! Humans are coming! The red and silver humans on horses!"_

The dragon picked his head up to the sound of the young man's voice, echoing in his mind. _Red and silver hm? Camelot patrol for sure_, he figured, and acting on some sudden idea, he got up and stretched his wings. This could be a good opportunity to have Merlin join his kind and finally move onto living with humans.

"Hey! You!" he heard someone shout.

So he flapped his large wings and with a jump, he was in the air.

Just at the moment his young ward's figure stormed out through the bushes, running straight at him.

_"Kilgharrah!"_

But the dragon gave him a single glance and flew off, determined to leave him behind.

"Stop right there!" a horseman shouted, and the great dragon could see several of them breaking through the greenery and catching up to the young man.

_"Kilgharrah!" _He shrieked with horror, only audible to the dragon.

_It's for his own good. _ The dragon tried to steady himself in his decision, as he got higher and further away from the ground.

He then heard a defense spell in the tongue of his kin, and a glance back showed him the horses running off and the riders scattered on the ground, knocked off their mounts. Some were getting to their feet, drawing their swords and the warlock kept backing away.

_"Kilgharrah! I _**_command_**_ you to take me with you!"_ He roared in the ancient tongue and the dragon had no choice but to return for him. The knights, seeing the approaching beast, backed away and started running for their lives. Looking back, they caught only a glimpse of when the dragon lowered himself close to the ground, picking the scrawny figure up, and soon they vanished in the sky.

_"H-HOW DARE YOU L-LEAVE ME THERE?!" _The boy clamored and the dragon couldn't help but feel a bit guilty as in his grip he could feel every pulse and every breath that was in the small body of the warlock; also he could sense his tremors and the dread that filled his small human heart. "_Don't you ever do that to me again!" _He added in a half-sob, and as much as the great dragon had sturdiness when he woke that morning, it only lasted till that moment.

He said nothing for a while. The boy was dear to him, it saddened his heart when he was upset.

Merlin was furious.

_"I won't do it."_

Kilgharrah sighed once again and decided to give it a rest; at least for a while.

_Stubborn lad that baby grew up to be_, he thought to himself.

Nearing the mountains, he peeked down only to notice Merlin had fallen asleep in his grasp. It wasn't unusual for the young man to sleep during flights, but the dragon couldn't help but wonder if he hadn't flown too high again. As much as Merlin's behavior irked him sometimes, and would really put Kilgharrah's _trained-in-decades-time_ patience to the test, he cared a great deal about the dark haired boy, and caring for him was the least he could do to repay a sacrifice as great as his parents had made for the dragon.

He landed on the cliff and once he stepped inside the cave, he let the body he was carrying drop onto a stack of hay that served as the sleeping place for his human companion. He sniffed him slightly and was relieved that indeed the boy just fell asleep during the flight and showed nothing irregular about his breathing or heartbeat.

Merlin turned to his other side, mumbled something in his sleep and pulling his legs up, continued his slumber.

Kilgharrah strutted deeper inside the cave and lay down, curling his long tail around himself. Looking at the young warlock, he pondered how he would get him to go back to the human world.

It has been nearly twenty years ago that his father, a dragonlord, the very last, chose to flee from Camelot, refusing to imprison him, Kilgharrah. But Uther Pendragon wasn't known to give up on something he wanted, his reach even going further then his borders to force his will onto the dragonlord, or make him pay with his life for his defiance.

Balinor was a smart man. He knew the tyrant would use any means to get what he wanted, so he decided not to let his woman and newborn son fall into the clutches of such a man; thus deciding to run from Ealdor, and take his family with him.

_It was a good plan_, Kilgharrah agreed. It just didn't work out quite that way..

The great dragon let out a deep sigh, drifting back to the present from his thoughts, looking over at the curled up figure on the ground.

He turned his head towards the middle of the cave, and with a puff the fireplace had flames dancing in it. Night would fall on them soon and he had learnt that keeping a human warm needed more than just a thick skin.

He was wise, yet he was amazed at the amount of things he had to learn, bringing up the son of the dragonlord. _The last dragon caring for the last dragonlord._

Kilgharrah smiled, sensing the boy to be waking.

Merlin stretched, yawned, scratched his messy dark long flocks and then just lay looking at the fire, eventually looking up at the great dragon.

"I fell asleep again." He stated.

"I might have flown a bit too high," the dragon said. "And I'm sorry about the fish." The dragon thought of the catch the boy had in his grip, just before they heard the riders approaching.

Merlin gave a wide grin.

"Don't be." He then sat up and reached to his neck, pulling out a string from around it and eventually the two fish pinned on it emerged from under his tattered shirt.

"So that's what smelled. And here I was thinking of suggesting you take a bath," the dragon giggled.

The boy smiled, proudly looking at his catch.

Looking on as the young dragonlord started preparing his meal at the fireplace, the dragon lowered his head and let his thoughts drift off once again, to think up a way to have the boy return to his kind. The task at hand seemed to be more difficult then he thought it would be.

.

"It is a privilege, Great Dragon, to care for the young Emrys." He recalled a druid chieftain's voice from some years ago. "However, the boy is not a druid. He is a creature of magic. He is most welcome here, but I fear he is not happy." And Kilgharrah remembered a very sulky young boy kicking stones around the edge of the camp.

Yes, indeed he had tried to have the boy get raised and live with the druids. And Iseldir was more than happy to help, knowing well of the prophecies about the young warlock, destined to change the land and help create Albion. It worked while he was a mere baby and needed taking care of, but as he grew older, it became more obvious that magic or not, he was different then the druids.

And so they decided that the dragon would take the boy with him, but come back every now and again and bring Merlin with him, so he could get used to being around people.

However after a while, when Kilgharrah came by with the young warlock in his grasp, all they found were torn tents, shredded homes, dead bodies and missing druids; and Kilgharrah knew that Uther had found the druid camp.

_"Where are the druids, Kilgharrah?"_ the small child asked.

_"They are gone, Merlin. They are dead."_

_"What killed them?"_

_"Hatred."_

.

Kilgharrah didn't dare look for other camps. The boy was old enough to be around the dragon without problems; and the creature could sense his young kin felt safest with him.

He taught him of magic; and he taught him of kings and people; he taught him about destiny and doing the right thing, and the boy, Merlin, proved to be a good apprentice. However when it came to going back to live with people, he didn't even want to hear about it. And as the time to act was fast approaching, Kilgharrah was getting fidgety about it. Little did he know that the opportunity would present itself, and that he should just be patient, like he himself had always advised the young warlock to be.

.

"Bringing something home again, Merlin?" The dragon turned to face the warlock the next day, as he heard him carrying something inside the cave.

It wasn't the first time the boy came back to the cave with some animal in his arms, wanting to keep it as pet. Kilgharrah understood that it was because he felt lonely, and longed for company that wasn't a _few decades old_, like himself; however explaining it to the boy was a downright impossible task, and his stubbornness tired even the aged dragon. Of course the animals got scared of the magical creature, and at the first opportunity, escaped from their new _'home';_ once night settled in and their young _'owner'_ fell asleep. Accusations were flying the next day, as Merlin always suspected Kilgharrah had eaten his pets, which of course the old dragon was growing increasingly tired of _(well, except for that time Merlin brought back a sheep to the cave. Yes. He did eat that one, but the boy doesn't have to know.)_

Sometimes however, arguments escalated to fury.

_"I will eat YOU if you don't quit this foolishness right now!"_ Kilgharrah thundered, and a few ground shaking steps later, he flew off into the sky and disappeared, leaving the young warlock on his own to '_cool down'_.

But he later returned, like he would do each night, whenever they had a fallout, and his ancient heart softened at the sight of the curled up human form; more so when he saw clear tear stains on his dirty cheeks.

_"I'm sorry Kilgharrah,"_ he whimpered half awake, once he noticed his guardian return. Rubbing his eyes and turning over to face him, smudging the dirt on his face even more, his cheeks still damp from tears. _"I didn't mean it.."_

_"I know.. It's alright,"_ his giant protector said, gently rubbing the boys back with the very tip of his tail until Merlin fell asleep again.

.

His newest "pet candidate" however, was completely different and it left even the great dragon with widened eyes.

_"Merlin, you _cannot_ keep a _human_ as a pet,"_ Kilgharrah said categorically, after he got over the surprise.

_"But he is injured,"_ the boy said with a hint of whining in his voice, _"and the rest of them are dead."_

_"Dead?"_

_"Yes, just below the mountain. The red and silver ones."_

The creature stepped closer, then noticed something he found very much familiar on the human form, especially his scent, and as it brought back memories for a second. He felt dread creep up under his scales.

_"Turn him over; let me have a look at him."_

Merlin knelt down next to the figure on the ground and looked up at the dragon, before turning him on his back. _"You can't eat him!"_ he said warningly.

_"Hm.. I see."_ Kilgharrah smiled inwardly once he recognized the injured man. _The time has come indeed._

_"You will need to heal him Merlin,"_ he said

"Me?!"

_"Yes, you. He will also need a poultice for that wound."_

_"I can gather the herbs faster, why don't you just heal him?"_

_"I cannot. For that injury, healing magic alone won't be enough."_

_"How can dragon's magic be not enough?"_ Merlin furrowed his brow.

_"Because what he needs is genuine care, not just magic."_

Merlin looked at him, puzzled, and decided that just didn't make any sense to him.

_"Besides, the herbs he needs are far from here, I can reach them faster than you._

_Tend to his wounds Merlin, I'll be back shortly."_

And with that he flew off, and left the very confused warlock to tend to the injured Prince of Camelot.

~.*.~


	2. Come heal me

~.2.~

Merlin moved to peel the man out of the armor and cursed how anyone could wear such a thing. _'No wonder you got hurt, this thing weighs as much as two dragons; must be hard to move in them.'_

The prince however didn't move and didn't wake, and after some time trying and failing to get the armor off, the warlock just lost patience and helped himself with some spells; then tossed the cut up metal and chain mail pieces in a pile, not worrying much about the damage done to them.

It was when he saw the horrid gash across the prince's chest when he did start to worry. The man was breathing heavily and sweating, as if he'd just taken a clothed bath in the river, and was as pale as the Moon at night.

His golden hair stuck to his head, and his features looked troubled and showing off the obvious pain. The ripped tunic was covered in blood, and the wound still seemed to be bleeding.

Merlin stared at it for a few seconds before he jumped to get some water to clean it.

_Kilgharrah could have healed him faster.. _he thought with slight annoyance, as it seemed the task he was given was a bit over his head. _Just what kind of plants did he need anyway? _The ones that he needed for a wound and fever grew just outside the cave..

_I hope he hurries up.._ He peered at the young man with concern, as he pressed down on the wound with a piece of cloth.

_._

Hell was pretty much loose by the time Kilgharrah had returned, and it took some time for the dragon to take in the noisy scene that was in front of him.

_"I don't want to keep this one. You can eat him. He is very loud,"_ Merlin said from the other end of the cave, sitting curled up on the ground, knees pulled up and with his head between his hands, covering his ears. On the other end there was Arthur Pendragon holding out a dagger – Gods know where he got that from - but he was pointing it at Merlin while showering him with threats, and the dragon figured the only reason he didn't charge at the warlock to kill him with it was that he didn't have any strength to do so.

"What is the meaning of this?" the great dragon asked, and Arthur jumped as if lighting hit him. Once he spotted the source of the sound, he pulled back to the cave wall in such a rush the creature was surprised at his speed.

"You.. y..ou talk."

"Of course I can talk.." he sighed. "Now would you please be still so as to not worsen your wounds? There won't be much we can do if you don't watch out for yourself." Then he turned to his ward, letting a few plants fall to the ground in front of him, from his claws.

"Gods help me.. a talking dragon…" the prince said in dumbfounded amazement and clearly the adrenaline-given strength was leaving him, as he slumped further down on the ground. His sight caught the young warlock. "And a wild man.."

Merlin felt offended.

_"I'm not a wild man, you clotpole!"_

Arthur frowned at him, as to his ears, whatever the other man had said sounded like roaring. Kilgharrah noticed immediately and cut in.

"He does not speak your language."

The prince looked up at him.

"Why.. how?"

"Because I raised him. And he only speaks the ancient tongue."

Arthur decided there and then that all this didn't make a bubble of a sense. A talking dragon claims to have raised a madman to speak the ancient tongue and he roars. And the dragon talks.

"Am I dead?" he asked with a sudden idea.

"No, young Pendragon, you are not." Arthur couldn't decide if he was relieved or disappointed about that. Unknowing of his turmoil, Kilgharrah continued, "And it will stay that way if you let Merlin help you."

"H-help me..?" he was about to ask just who and how, when he saw the dirty looking man slowly coming towards him again, with the plants and a cup looking thing in hand. "Stay back!" he shouted and held his dagger up once more. The other man halted. This was all too much, it was all too unreal and the pain in his chest was becoming too overwhelming. What was going on? How did he get here.. and where was "here" anyway?. And his people!..

"Where's.. my p-patrol?"

"They are all dead, I'm afraid.."

"You.. you killed them!" he shouted at Merlin, and the man furiously screamed something at him, that again came out as a mix of growls and screeches.. "You … tried to kill m-me too!" the prince added with a pant and he really started to feel sick.

"Rubbish," the dragon said. "He merely tried to help you."

The dagger fell from the young man's grip. He fought to stay awake, he really did, but it was becoming too much. The pain was making it impossible for him to think of anything else.

"Calm down, Arthur. We mean you no harm. I promise," Kilgharrah said, and that was the last thing the prince heard before darkness slowly claimed him. _Funny,_ he thought, he could've sworn the dragon's breath had a golden glimmer about it, as he felt warm air hit him; and he did calm down before he fell asleep.

.

The dragon then nodded at Merlin, and the young warlock stepped close to the injured man.

_"I did mean it. You can eat him,"_ he said.

_"I will do no such thing."_ The dragon said and walked inside the cave. _"Merlin, remember I told you about the two Pendragon men?"_

_"Yea.." _the dark haired one glanced up warily at his guardian, as he was cleaning the wound on the prince's chest.

_"The good and the bad one, and that one day you will have to go and serve and protect the good one. Well, that time is now. This is him. This is Arthur Pendragon, the Once and Future King that you will have to protect and help create a new age for the land."_

Merlin was deep in thought while he prepared a paste from the herbs.

_"Sure doesn't look like him.." _he mumbled after a while.

For a long time he didn't say anything; he just stole glances at Arthur and pondered, while his hands moved about, preparing and applying the salve to the wound.

Kilgharrah was curious of his thoughts, but knew better then to disturb him. So they both waited.

_"So this is Arthur then,"_ he finally said.

_"Yes, Merlin."_

_"Then I'd better heal him.."_ He knelt closer to the prince and looked up at the great dragon, then held his hand out over the blonde man's chest, and his eyes glowed with that of the dragon's color, as he quietly started to chant.

Kilgharrah smiled.

.

The next time Arthur woke, the cave was quiet; with only the fire's cracking sound around him and heavy breaths nearby. Once he looked around, he found the dark haired young man lying next to him. He scrutinized his face for a while before deciding to move, and to his amazement, he could; his chest was still covered in the disgusting looking and smelling salve, but it felt much better.

He looked at the boy again, - _Merlin was it? _– he seemed to be sound asleep, yet in a position that looked somewhat uncomfortable and he looked a little paler then the prince remembered. He wondered how he knew that, when the young man was practically impossible to recognize under the layers of dirt covering his face. He moved and carefully touched his shoulder. Merlin didn't react, so the prince turned him onto his back to have him lay in a more normal position, because the angle of his neck was just worrying and even looking at it made Arthur's own neck hurt.

Merlin took a deep breath but didn't wake, however the dragon did and Arthur gasped at the sight of those golden eyes peering at him again.

"It's all right, young Pendragon. If I wanted to kill you I would've done so already, don't you think?"

The prince had to agree that much was true.

"We mean you no harm. You are fortunate Merlin found you when he did."

"Why did you save me?" the young man blurted out one of many questions he had.

"One day you will be king. You are destined to do great things that will be known by many generations to come, and neither I nor the boy want to stand in the way of those deeds. More so, we'd like to help."

Arthur looked at the dark haired boy again. Taking in his features, there was something about him; there was something under all that dirt and the prince felt there was more than just gratitude towards him in his heart; it was something he couldn't quite put his finger on, but it made Arthur want to protect him and look out for him.

Now, unconscious he looked so peaceful. The opposite of the roaring wild man he saw earlier. He even seemed harmless; what could he possibly do?

"Is he alright?" he blurted out.

"Yes, he is." The dragon smiled. "He just overdid it a bit. He's not used to healing magic. And between you and me, he's not all that talented in it, but he outdid himself this time."

"Magic?! He's a _sorcerer?_!" Arthur looked up at the dragon in disbelief, then at the boy again; pulling back as if he were some disease, or a monster that was about to attack him.

"Obviously." The dragon sighed, and after the thought took a turn in Arthur's mind, he figured there could be no other way. No ordinary man would be living with a dragon. "But before you say anything, let me tell you that whatever your father has been telling you, he hasn't been telling the whole side of it." The dragon raised his head, and it made him look more intimidating.

"But magic is.. is evil! It corrupts the people!"

"No, Arthur." Kilgharrah's voice softened. "Magic is only evil if the people using it are. How would it be evil if it just saved your life?"

"Clearly to obtain information about Camelot from me!"

"And why would he do that? What use would he have for that?"

Arthur had to admit he didn't have an answer. _Really_. Why would a dirty wild man want information from the prince of Camelot? He sat thinking until he started feeling lightheaded from it.

He gave one glance towards the dragon and let himself lay back down, noticing now that he was no longer at the entrance of the cave, but resting on gathered hay deeper inside the cave, which no doubt served as a bed for his savior. For a second, he thought about his soft warm bed back in the castle.

He turned his head to the side, noting that the sleeping young man next to him was lying on the cave floor, as he gave up his "bed" to the injured prince. Observing the said savior further, he tried to grasp the idea of that _"savage"_ being a sorcerer. He wouldn't admit it even to himself, but he'd felt a kind of curiosity towards magic for a while now. Heavens forbid his father found out, he would have all of his entourage executed on the accusation of _"treason, enchanting his son, corrupting and luring him towards sorcery"_. Whenever the king heard the word "magic" he suddenly transformed into a crazed man with a sick lust for killing, so as his interest piqued, Arthur had to force it down, for the sake of many people around him. He would ask the old court physician, or read books, _'purely to gain better knowledge to help him recognize magic when he saw it';_ as he told his father when questioned.

His father just had a tendency to overreact.

"Did you teach him sorcery?" he asked all of a sudden.

"This boy is no ordinary sorcerer," the great dragon replied. "He was _born_ with his gift. He is the most powerful warlock that ever walked the earth, and it is his destiny to use his gift to serve and protect you."

The prince remained quiet again for some time, taking in the information, and the dragon waited patiently until he did. Arthur continuously looked at Merlin. He'd never seen a sorcerer up that close, he realized. He didn't really look all that different from ordinary people. Well, he was incredibly dirty, not to mention his smell, but nothing different from any other man in Camelot. Even so, he looked.. a little odd. He really seemed to be out of it.

"Is he sick.. from healing me?"

"No. He is just worn out, but don't worry, he'll come around after some sleep."

The prince peeked down at his chest and shoulder, and tried his arm; lifting it and squeezing his fist and stretching his fingers in front of him. It felt a bit weak, but still better then how he felt just after that fight.

"Well.. I think he's pretty good at it." He gave half a smile. "Why is he here?" The prince looked up at the magical creature once more, realizing the question didn't quite come out as he intended, but the creature seemed to understand what the prince was curious about. It seemed very odd for a human to live with a dragon. _Well.. the sight of a dragon seemed very odd on its own._

"As I said before, I raised him."

"Why?"

"Because his parents died saving my life; it was the least I could do, after your father had them killed."

"My.. father?" Arthur pushed himself up a bit to be able to see the dragon better.

Kilgharrah nodded.

"My father killed his parents?.. And he'd still be willing to serve me?" It was something the young prince found hard to believe.

"It is his destiny."

The prince let himself back on the hay again and was quiet for some time after that, occasionally staring at the dragon or the warlock next to him. Kilgharrah knew there were things he had to sort about this turn of events.

"There are many threats hanging over Camelot, and many dangers looming over you and plotting the kingdom's fall. You and only you can stop it, Arthur Pendragon. It is your destiny. But you will only succeed with the help of this young warlock. His kind has been hunted, tortured and killed by your father, and many times unrightfully so. What guilt does a child have in being born with a gift that makes him different than the rest? Your father is blinded by hatred, and doesn't see the suffering he is causing to these people. People, who only want to live free, like everyone else."

Throughout the following days, Arthur asked questions, and Kilgharrah tried his best to give answers to whatever the prince was curious about. Merlin tended to his injuries, brought him food and water and proved to be just like the dragon had said: serving and protecting him, unlike any servant or caretaker the blonde man had ever seen. They didn't do much talking, but even the dragon noticed there was a bond growing between them. Merlin seemed to sense whenever Arthur was in discomfort, and Arthur always had a smile for Merlin, even when he was in pain.

Secretly, they would peer at each other. Merlin was amazed by the golden hair; one time even touching it as he brushed a flock of hair from Arthur's face while he slept, then pretended to check for a fever when suddenly the prince woke. Arthur, on the other hand, marveled at the dark haired one's eyes, and he felt his heart leap whenever those blue orbs met with his. His long, dark hair was messy, with no inch of skin on him that wasn't dirty and he wore trousers and a shirt that were torn in so many places it was obvious they would've needed replacing a long time ago, and the only similar thing Arthur ever saw was the rag his servant would wash the floor of his chambers with. And he had to note that he never saw such tenderness from any servant. The workers of Camelot did what their duties required of them, but the young warlock was no worker of Camelot, and still Arthur found more care in his gestures than any servant in the castle.

Slowly he healed, however when the time came for Arthur to head back to Camelot, Merlin simply vanished in the forest.

"Come to Camelot with me," he had pleaded the night before, but didn't get any response besides the sad glances, as Merlin lay next to him; with his head on the Arthur's abdomen, looking up at him. There was something else in those eyes as well, and the prince wondered if it was fear. Thinking of all he had learnt from the great dragon about the purge - about Merlin and the threat over sorcerers - he felt it didn't surprise him that the young man was wary of the idea. But still.. he had grown so fond of him, so close to him, it felt impossible to imagine his days without the boy being around. Days starting without his wide grin; days going by without his clumsy strutting around; evenings without feeling his warmth as he curled up close to Arthur; nights without hearing his soft breath on his shoulders. It seemed foreign to go back to the castle and continue his life as if nothing happened, for he knew his life would never be the same.

"I'll keep you safe.." he whispered, "I promise." But it was for naught, as the warlocks fear seemed too great.

"He'll come around," Kilgharrah said and sighed, and watched Arthur head towards a passage he knew the patrol would pass by.

Merlin was distracted after that. He returned to the cave late and wordlessly curled up on the spot Arthur used to lay, and after some sniffing and muffled whimpers he fell asleep. He refused to get up for some time, he would deny meals; he would sit at the fireplace just looking at the flames. He became unusually quiet, to the extent that it made Kilgharrah worry.

"You can always go after him," he said one evening, and after some thinking, the boy slowly nodded.

~.*.~


	3. Come save me

**There you go.. third chapter~  
As for me, OP tomorrow. Cheers for anesthetic; but keep your finger crossed for me? :] Meanwhile: enjoy the fic and do let me know what you think~**

**~.3.~**

"I can't watch this," Arthur said with disgust, and turned to leave his father as he stood on the high wall looking down at the gathered ones. Uther looked after his son with furrowed brows, making a mental note to talk to him about this later. After all, a prince cannot show weakness when casting judgment on sorcerers.

_Death._ It was just one word and anyone being marked a 'sorcerer' was justified to hear it sentenced upon them.

What Uther didn't know was how that opinion started to change in his son's mind.

And neither of them knew of the guest that was standing around in the crowd, getting suspicious glances for his looks (and his smell). For none knew Merlin has been dropped off by Kilgharrah in a clearing nearby, and he set foot in Camelot at sunrise, just in time to witness an execution of a man accused of using magic.

The king announced the verdict and the executioner did the rest. People gasped and cried out and turned their heads, only one person couldn't take his eyes off the horrible scene, and he lacked the voice to say anything. He just started backing off, bumping into anyone that was behind him, eventually hitting the guards and from there on he didn't know what had happened, but there were fists and pushing and shoving and next thing he knew he got grabbed and dragged off and tossed into a dark cell.

.

_'Well, you did it now, Merlin..' _he thought, and curled up in the corner of the cell; and waited. Gods know what he waited for, but he knew for a fact that he could not use magic to get out. Kilgharrah had made him promise that no matter what happened, he mustn't use his magic, for anyone to see; especially not in front of Uther Pendragon.

But where was Arthur in all this? There were so many people between the walls, and now he was in this dark cell, and no idea why and how he would get out. _How would he find the prince? _If all seemed lost; he would just break free and make a run for it, he figured. But those walls looked mighty thick, and the bars seemed pretty strong, and he wouldn't even know which way to run. There weren't any windows either, through which he could glance at the world outside his prison.

Time stretched on and no-one came. He could hear distant voices, but no-one came to see him.

_'Kilgharrah.. Kilgharrah… why have you done this to me?'_

He felt abandoned, looking into the darkness as no answer came to his call; not throughout the day, and not that evening. He didn't want to risk calling out to him aloud. But he continuously called out to him in his mind's voice. They always talked like that. There was no need for words. It even hurt his throat whenever he did use his voice to chant a spell.

Merlin kept calling the dragon, but his pleas were left unanswered. Maybe he was out of his reach, maybe he was trying to help.. or maybe, he was far gone, as at last he had managed to get Merlin back to be amongst people, and finally rid himself of the human companion..

The warlock curled in on himself. The cell was getting even colder as night settled over the land. He realized he's been in the dark cell for a good while, and no-one came. No-one heard him. No-one cared. He kept calling and calling, and not minding the tears that were streaming down his face, but silence was his only answer. Eventually, he lost track of time.

Eventually he fell into a restless sleep.

.

Arthur was starting to have the feeling his father took him to be a simpleton, as he strode across the hallways, making his way to the training grounds, from yet another long and pointless lecture about the dangers of magic. It was starting to annoy him.

He had his own ideas now, but gave up on trying to hint to his father that there might be a different side to it all; that an old woman might just want to enchant her potion to ease the pain in her aching legs; that a man would cast a spell on his crops to make them grow faster just so he could feed his family; that.. not all that was magic, was always bad. But he lost his patience and gave up, and the king would get over worried and call for Gaius to check if his son was well or had been enchanted. It was enough that Uther ordered him bed rest after he returned, despite Gaius saying he was perfectly well. A fact that the old physician marveled at, looking at the scars the prince bore.

Now, he started to see the difference; started to notice that what up until then he perceived as cautiousness on his fathers side, was rather bordering paranoia and madness at times. But he knew better then to voice it. However, since refusing to watch executions, his father made sure to fit in his schedule for them to have daily talks about the values on which the kingdom was built and the threats that magic represented against all that.

And truth be told, Arthur was getting bored of it._ Really bored._ But he had to feign an interest and swallow his anger, every time his father made remarks on magic users that he knew for a fact that – at least for one person - were untrue. And each time, his mind wandered to the cave where he had spent those days healing and being tended to by none other than a magic user; a kind and caring one too.

The training field proved to be a good place of escape. The only place his father rarely followed him to, and he could take his mind off the turmoil inside him and let off some steam on the training-dummies. He felt restless and the training helped him get distracted enough.

Uther noted that he was spending far too much time with his sword, to which he simply said, he had to make up for lost time and get back in shape, and keep his knights fit as well, for who knew when enemies would strike.  
The king nodded in agreement and smiled proudly at his son's thoughtfulness; oblivious to the bitter taste the young man had in his mouth. Arthur wondered how long he could keep on doing this.

There wasn't really a problem that needed solving, there wasn't a threat needing to be looked out for, there was just… _something missing_. The prince felt agitated and restless, and he knew it couldn't go unnoticed for long. He was still healing, yet he kept pushing himself, in order to escape getting too fidgety. Sometimes he felt worn out from the training, and Leon did approach him at one point to see if there was anything troubling the prince that he would like to talk about; but as much as he trusted the knight, he brushed the question off, making up some weak excuses. He knew the knight wasn't buying his made up stories. However, he also knew that his right hand man understood him more than anyone in the whole castle, and gave the prince time to get over whatever had happened in the days he was missing; for which the young man felt grateful.

Each time he went to bed, he remembered the haystack that Merlin was probably sleeping on at that moment; and each time he ate sausages and grapes he thought of the fish and berries his caretaker would bring for him, to the cave while he healed.  
Slowly, he realized there wasn't a moment of the day that he didn't think of the young man, and he found himself wondering just what he could look like without the dirt and rags on him; what his voice would be like if he could speak; what his scent would be like if he'd take a proper bath. He played out little scenes in his head, slowly shaping an image about Merlin; clean, in decent clothes, and taken care of. If he closed his eyes, he could see the warlock's clear blue gaze in front of him, his lopsided grin, his skinny arms; yet he was missing his voice. He pictured bits of him; he had the details, but was missing the whole picture, and felt the warlock was slowly slipping away from his memories. And the prince realized, as awkward as it felt, that he was missing him, and it saddened him.

After another futile effort to keep Merlin off his mind, Arthur started going through his schedule for the day (for the _N_th time), while going down the last fleet of stairs, when he heard something that seemed familiar in a way and caught his attention in an instant.

Two guards were standing at the bottom of the staircase, talking and unaware of the prince's presence.

"..I swear he smelled of herbs and mud," one said, and the other one laughed. "Felt kind of sorry for him though. He looked really terrified. But the king seems to be too preoccupied to see what's to be done with him, so until further orders he's stuck there."

"Matters of the state are more important than some stinking savage." The other one nodded.

_..herbs and mud..  
_And at that moment, Arthur felt something grip onto his chest and stepped in front of the guards, to which they both stood at attention in an instant.

"Sire!"

"At ease," the prince said. "Where is this man you talk of?" he asked, masking his nervousness by fiddling with his gloves. _Could it be? Could it really be?_

"In the lower dungeon, Sire," the guard replied.

"Take me to him," Arthur said, and the guard nodded and turned around to lead the young man to the cell, where said man was held. He had no reason to question the prince's request, and Arthur was secretly happy about that.

He felt that grip tightening, once they were heading deeper into the dungeons, and he felt the temperature drop slightly, as in this area it was significantly cooler then the other cells above, these ones having no windows either.  
Arthur felt his mind race with thoughts, wondering why they decided to put the man in the lower dungeons. But he would have time to think about that, perhaps even ask his father, but now..

"Here he is, Sire." The guard stopped at a cell door and stood waiting for further instructions, holding the torch closer to the bars for the prince to better see the occupant of the cell.

Arthur held his breath, stepping closer as he searched the cell. In the dim light and at a first glance it seemed empty, but then there in the corner he saw a dark figure curled up. Knees pulled up and head resting on them, while he was slightly slouched against the wall next to him.

"Why has this man been locked up?"

"He was causing commotion the other day at the execution, my Lord," the guard replied and Arthur gasped inwardly. '_Oh no… Merlin saw that?' _He quickly figured the imprisoning must have taken place after he left the royal terrace, refusing to watch a man getting his head chopped off.  
So the young warlock had come to the city, and he managed to pick the time to witness a magic user being executed. It wasn't the way the blonde would've wanted him to see Camelot for the first time.

"Did he say anything?" he asked.

"No, Sire. He mumbled something but nothing coherent."

"Was he injured?"

"No, Sire. Not that I know of.." the man frowned. It wasn't like they looked at the well-being of whoever they toss into the dungeons.

Arthur hesitated for a moment, then stepped even closer to the iron bars; putting a hand on the cold rod and scrutinizing the occupant of the cell.

"Merlin," he called out, to the guard's surprise, but the prince ignored the man looking at him oddly. However the figure didn't move. Arthur couldn't help but feel a wash of worry run through him. It's either not him, or..

"Merlin!" he called out again, this time a little louder, and the messy flocks started to shift and a pair of scared and sleepy blue eyes looked at him, reflecting something of the torch's light. Arthur smiled with relief as he recognized his savior. The warlock sat up straight from the wall he was leaning against. He looked at the blonde man with a mix of surprise and a little relief, but didn't move from where he sat, glancing at the guard.

"Release this man," he said.

"I'm.. sorry, prince Arthur, but the kings' orders were.." the guard started, but Arthur cut in.

"I _know_ this man." His words came out a sort of snarl; not quite how he intended, but he couldn't help it. Merlin was a magic user and he feared what might become of him, should his father get to him first and become suspicious. And let's face it, his looks alone drew enough attention. "Release him. You can tell my father I have taken him into my custody."

Arthur was in the cell as soon as the guard opened the door. Merlin still hadn't moved. He just sat looking at the approaching blonde with eyes somewhat shining; a little uneasy and a little surprised that this was actually happening; that Arthur had come for him.  
He couldn't move however, he felt cold. It numbed him and his body felt like it was disobeying when he tried to shift from his position; the same one he'd been in since he got thrown into the cell.

"Come on, Merlin," Arthur said softly and held his hand out. The warlock looked at it, then grabbed it, and as the prince pulled him to his feet he noticed the dark haired man was shivering. His hand was cold - incredibly cold - and Arthur wondered if the cold cell had any other effect on him, considering he always had a dragon to keep him warm up until now. He was secretly happy the man was smart enough not to use magic to make fire in the cell.

Merlin looked at him in awe, and still felt like he was dreaming as the young man pulled him to his feet. Keeping a hand on the wall, he looked at the blonde with a wary and questioning look.

"I'm taking you out of here," he said in a barely audible tone. However, once urged to walk, the warlock's numbed feet refused to co-operate and the very first step made his knee buckle. Arthur quickly grabbed his arm, putting it around his neck and grabbing Merlin's waist to support him.

There was a certain panic the dark haired boy could sense on him. The young warlock wanted to tell him that he was fine, his feet only having fallen asleep as he was crouched, but he knew the prince wouldn't be able to understand him anyway.

"I'm taking him to the court physician," Arthur said to the guard, and led the young man away from his captivity.

As soon as the circulation started to get back into his feet, Merlin felt it like knives and needles, and tried to motion to Arthur to stop and wait a little, but the prince took it the wrong way, thinking the warlock was trying to get away.

"It's alright, Merlin. No-one's going to harm you. We're almost there," he said reassuringly, and picked the pace up to get him to the physician as soon as possible. Merlin only let out a pained moan as response.

"Did they.. did they do anything? Did they hit you?" Arthur swallowed. He feared the reply but Merlin just shook his head. He himself didn't know what really had happened, only knowing that what he saw was a shock for him. The memory made him tremble again.

The little trip towards the court physician's chamber went smoothly and Arthur was secretly happy they didn't run into anyone, not even a servant, but just before the last turn, his joy was short-lived.

"Arthur? What are you doing?" An all too familiar voice called out, and the prince stopped and turned slightly to see his father looking at him; no doubt surprised at the scene in front of him.

"I'm taking this man to Gaius."

"I can see that. But what of him?" Uther asked and stepped closer, rolling up the parchment he had in his hand and stopping to stand akimbo in front of his son and the messy figure he was supporting.

"Father, you had this man locked up. But the dungeon is no place for him," Arthur said.

"Why so?" the king asked with honest curiosity, however unsure if he should be amused or worried of the situation; a fleeting thought making him wonder if his son was losing his mind and carrying prisoners out of their cell.

"The patrol a few days ago. Remember, I told you about the man who saved me after I got wounded and went missing? Father, this man saved my life. He is the one that nursed me back to health," the prince said, trying his best to look confident; all the while feeling Merlin tense at his father's presence, and he had a pretty good idea why.

"This?" Uther let out a chuckle "This .. _person_ saved your life you say..?" It seemed he had a hard time even considering the figure a "person", seeing how Merlin looked with his long, messy flocks of hair, dirt on his skin and ragged, torn clothes.

"Yes, father. He saved me. Had it not been for his courage and care, I would've just bled out like the rest of my knights."

"How do you know he didn't attack the patrol himself?" Uther stepped closer, eyeing the warlock, and the prince had to get a better grip of him as Merlin tensed even more.

_Really father? _Arthur sighed. "There were bandits that attacked us, father. I saw them."

"And how exactly did _he_ save you if your wound was so severe you couldn't come back to Camelot?" he asked, and Arthur knew where this was going. His father made a mistake, but he just didn't like anything and anyone sticking out of line.

"He used herbs. He has great knowledge about healing plants. I have seen it with my own eyes," the prince said with much conviction. It was all true; he just left out the small details that consisted of enchanting the tinctures before administering them.

"And what do you intend to do with him once Gaius looks at him?" the king asked, now becoming a little amused by his son's claims.

"I want him to stay in the castle," Arthur spat out, then with a sudden idea he added, "I'll take him as my manservant."

"Your.. your _manservant_?" Uther laughed with his mouth open wide, and Merlin flinched at the sound, while the prince was getting irked about being delayed. He gave Merlin's wrist a gentle squeeze, just to signal for him to calm down. "Arthur be reasonable, he's a.. _savage,_" Uther added, calming his laughter.

"A savage?" Arthur gasped, peering at the dirty warlock. "Perhaps. But he saved my life, father. It is the least I can do to repay him, to give him the honor to be my servant."

Uther let out a sigh, regaining his composure and eyeing his son, then the manservant-candidate at his side.

"Arthur, I understand you want to show your gratitude, and as future king, it is good to know when you need to be generous towards those that help you, but surely you can't want this.. _person_ to be your servant. Reward him in some other way, then let him be on his way back to his home," the older man explained, with a slight smile still lingering on the corner of his lips.

"No." His son just shook his head, like a stubborn child not wanting to give up a favorite toy, despite his father's coaxing.

"Arthur.." The king's tone hardened, and Merlin had a feeling it wasn't a good idea to irk the man.

"He lives in a cave, father. In cold and misery, yet he still found it in him to care for me. It is the least I can do to repay him, and I will do it." Arthur lifted his chin to prove his determination. "I want him to be my manservant."

Uther sighed stepping closer, dislike clear on his face, and looked over Merlin.

"What is your name, boy?"

"His name is Merlin," Arthur interjected.

Uther looked at his son questioningly.

"He can't talk," the prince explained.

"Then how do you know his name?"

"I ..don't." The prince realized the truth was slipping. "I'll just call him Merlin."

"Merlin.. what a peculiar name. Why don't you just call him George or something? Something more common."

"He.. doesn't look like a 'George', he looks more like a 'Merlin'," the blonde explained and took another grip at Merlin's wrist as the young warlock just kept trying to pull away from the king's scrutiny.

Uther blinked. He came to the conclusion that whatever happened in the few days his son had been missing had affected him in a rather odd way, even if he seemed to be fine up until now; if not a little more determined in training then before. Nonetheless, the king made a mental note to bring this up with Gaius the next time he saw the physician.

"Alright," he said, and Arthur seemed more relieved in an instant.

"Come now, a woman was caught and is suspected of using sorcery, I'm heading to interrogate her in the dungeon and pass judgment. Join me," the king said, motioning for a guard, to step closer. "The guard will take your.. _servant_ to Gaius."

_"No. _I'll take him." The prince turned in a way to keep his servant at a distance from the approaching man. Uther didn't know what to make of Arthur's sudden possessiveness, reminding him very much of a six year old boy instead of a crown prince, but seeing as he didn't have time for this, Uther just raised his hands in frustration and defeat, motioning he'd had enough of the situation and walked off towards the dungeons. "Fine."

.

_'Interrogate and pass judgment.'_ _Does that mean the woman will be killed too..? Just like that man the other day? _The images of the execution quickly flooded Merlin's mind, and he couldn't help but feel sick to his stomach. He covered his mouth to fight the feeling, but couldn't stop his eyes getting teary at the thought.

Arthur was leading him through the hall, and the young man had no idea where he was taking him. Any place seemed better then to be near the king, but he couldn't figure how he would be able to serve and protect the young man when he felt this much lost against the task.

The prince glanced at him from the side, noting that Merlin was obviously very upset about the execution. He might not be able to talk, but he was no fool; and Arthur too knew what fate awaited the poor woman. His father was going to sentence her to death, no matter the outcome of the interrogation. But above all he started to realize just what a great risk it all was for Merlin to be there.

"Gaius!" he called out, once he was stepping into the physician's chambers.

"Sire?" The old man stepped down from the ladder and put the few scrolls he had in hand aside on the table, eyeing the blonde and the shivering form he was guiding in.

"Gaius, this is Merlin. I'd like you to examine him and make sure he is well," the prince explained, letting the young warlock go and having him sit on a bench. "He will be staying in Camelot from now on."

"I understand," the old man said, a little surprised, and stepped closer to them. Merlin, who had been distracted by the various plants on display, along with potions, books and scrolls for all to see, now noticed the approaching figure and tried to back away.

"It's alright, Merlin." He found Arthur's hand in a firm grip on his shoulder, keeping him from getting off his seat. "Gaius is a good friend. I trust him. You can trust him too." The prince nodded and the elderly man came close to them. "He.. doesn't talk, and.." the blonde took a deep breath. He figured the man would find out sooner or later, as for some odd reason things like that didn't go unnoticed by him. Still, he kept his voice low. "Another thing, Gaius.." The old man looked up at him with interest. "He has magic. My father must not find out."

Merlin's eyes widened at Arthur, but the old physician nodded knowingly. He understood, oh he understood well, and Merlin thought that if Arthur was alright with the old man knowing, then he should be too. There was something in the physician that made the warlock feel calm around him, so he decided to just try and give into the feeling. After all, Arthur was there too.

"Well, Sire," Gaius spoke after some time of examining the warlock. "He seems to be alright. Just a couple of bruises here and there and a bit undernourished; I suspect his life conditions are at fault at that, and obviously a little shaken up from recent events. But other than that, he is quite well." The physician concluded and looked at the prince with an unspoken _'What now?'_ lingering.

Arthur stood there the whole time; answering Gaius as best as he could, when the elderly man asked various questions concerning Merlin. He was still standing with arms crossed, looking at the form of the young man in front of him. He imagined the warlock to be lanky, surely a life in a cave wasn't exactly a condition to get fattened up in, but still.. _the man's ribs were showing, for God's sake! _He never would've guessed he was _that_ skinny.

"May I suggest, Sire. A bath. Before all else." Gaius spoke, noticing the prince was lost in thought.

"Of course. I'll get the servants to ready a bath, and.. I'll fetch him some clothes." Arthur snapped out of it and headed towards the door. Merlin stood quickly on seeing the prince leave.

"Stay here, Merlin. You're safe with Gaius." Arthur poked his head back, then closed the door behind him.

The warlock warily looked at the old man, and Gaius tried his best to smile. The young man looked frightened and positively worn out from the ordeal, and Gaius wondered where to start.

"I know you probably don't trust me," he said slowly, and noticed Merlin swallowed and glanced at the floor guiltily. "And I'm quite certain, from what Arthur told me, that the city must seem very busy and unfriendly compared to your previous home." The boy gave a small nod. "You should be careful, but you should never think that you are alone," Gaius said and stepped a little closer, smiling inwardly that Merlin didn't flinch away this time.

**~.*.~**


End file.
